Vices
by PurelyPoison
Summary: "It's always been you, didn't you know that?" He stared at her, willing her to believe him and to see that he had meant every word. "No, I didn't know that", she replied and his blood went cold as he thought of all the years he had wasted spying for a woman who didn't want him but she wasn't finished. "But I know it now and that's what matters". EWE. Wartime fic. M for later.
1. Chapter 1

Draco flicked his cigarette end into the pile of smoking hot ash before him without a glimmer of remorse and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Four raids meant they had been up all night and he was approaching that stage of mental fatigue that made even the most remedial task seem impossible.

He automatically pulled another cigarette out of his coat pocket and lit it skilfully with non-verbal magic. It was the only vice he had, alcohol fogged his mind and made his decision making rash and impulsive; something he had learned the hard way. The cocaine his acquaintances indulged in transformed them from calm, rational killers to something far more feral and animalistic. It made them capable of inhumane atrocities such that even Draco, hardened by years at war, could not withstand; he never wanted to forget, not even for a moment, that he still possessed his humanity. Yes, it was buried beyond the prying eyes of those who would like to remove him from his authoritative position but it was there, nestled in like a tic under his skin.

He inhaled deeply and blew the smoke out of his nostrils, surveying the damage. The Parkinson house had been a magnificent one but when the family had been discovered to have fled in the night, away from the terror, uncertainty and torment, protocol required that the house and all of its contents be destroyed. Draco oversaw this act with pleasure, the family had escaped and as yet they had failed to be recaptured but since the statistics of recapture were high, Draco wouldn't hold his breath.

"Sir", came a booming voice on his left. He turned and faced one of the new recruits; fresh-faced, much too young to possess such a voice and foreign, Voldemort's reach stretched far these days. Draco knew for a fact that there were death eaters currently recruiting in Russia and France.

"What is it Jonas?" said Draco feigning indifference to ensure this little snot knew his place.

"I've been sent to fetch you, his Lord wishes to convene with you about the attempted Parkinson escape", his voice had dropped to a squeak in Draco's presence.

The Draco Malfoy most of his schoolmates would remember had been replaced with a towering man who, although only 21, felt and looked several years older. The same platinum hair that was still quite short apart from the fringe that fell into his eyes was his only recognisable feature. He was lean now rather than skinny which suited his tall frame and his eyes were almost deadened. His facial features were chiselled rather than pointed and the ferret look had long since disappeared: if not for his current status, young witches and wizards may have called him handsome. The young death eaters often talked about how glad they were when his hair fell into his eyes; they offered a curtain to hide his cool and icy stare, eyes that seemed to bore through your soul and succeeded in terrifying any new recruit. Draco's reputation as being the best at detecting liars without using magic preceded him and people with secrets attempted to stay out of his way as much as possible.

In actual fact though, Draco had come to detest incompetent liars in his time at war not liars in general and the distinction was an important one to him. Incompetency in deceit infuriated him, from the ministry officials who in the beginning had said the war would last merely a month or two, to the Death Eaters he had watched die before his eyes from their inability to hide their true feelings. The fact was, Draco was good at detecting liars because he was the most skilled liar of them all.

Jonas waited expectantly for an answer but kept his eyes averted from Draco's. To look at him directly would be to disrespect his authority and he couldn't bear for Draco to see how frightened he was of him. This capricious, striking man was followed by some of the darkest stories Jonas had ever heard; he had heard that Draco had even murdered his own family, in cold blood and had allowed their bodies to be displayed outside Malfoy Manor for all the world to see.

Draco, aware and enjoying the young recruit's discomfort, was meanwhile mulling over the use of English and had had to avoid rolling his eyes at the words _attempted escape_. Every escape was referred to as an attempt, to do otherwise would mean admitting that the escape was successful and the Death Eaters had failed to detain the fugitives. If they were never caught, which was unlikely but had happened twice in the past two years, it was then referred to as "the treachery", making it sound like they were traitors first and successful escapees second.

"Jonas, I was notified of this a mere hour ago and I've not finished overseeing the destruction of the house", he indicated behind him where there were several more death eaters currently searching through the charred remains for any evidence or indication of where the Parkinsons had fled. Draco was making them do this as punishment, they would fail to find anything amongst scorched remnants but the order had been to search the house first and then destroy it. However, new recruits were overly eager for demolition and their misplaced enthusiasm had resulted in the early demise of the house. In truth, Draco was pleased, he needed the Parkinsons to have a single hope in hell of getting away and he couldn't guarantee that all of them had been clever enough to cover their tracks.

"You will return to the Dark Lord and tell him, respectfully, that I shall meet him at Malfoy Manor at a time of his choosing to discuss what has happened. In the meantime, inform him that Blaise and Theo are overseeing a search of all major networks by which they may have escaped and the search has widened to Europe within the last twenty minutes".

Draco's voice was commanding and strong, the young death eater trembled under him clearly terrified at having to go back and explain that his superior was not with him. New recruits had been killed for less but Draco found he did not care. This idiot had chosen this particular path for himself making him a lost cause and therefore not Draco's problem.

"Yes Sir".

He apparated quickly with one pop; minutes passed before a patronus reached him and indicated the number 8.

Draco kicked some ash under his foot, dusting his long black jacket with a lazy hand and sighed, 8pm it was then, the clichéd fact that Voldemort preferred to meet when it was dark was not lost on Draco but for once he found no time to scoff. He glanced at his watch; dawn was fast approaching which meant that he had to check in with Theo and Blaise before hopefully catching up on some sleep. Tonight then, he would go to her.

They had no way of communicating so once they had arranged to meet, the other had to go to the predetermined point and wait. If there was no sign within half an hour, they left and the agreement was to wait one week, for news or an indication that the other was still alive, before trying again in the same spot, on the same day and at the same time. Draco went under polyjuice potion but for her it wasn't necessary, she was the point of contact he had specifically requested so he already knew her identity.

He couldn't pinpoint the hour or the moment when he had begun to fall in love with her but he believed it had happened back in school sometime. Perhaps, it had always been there. He didn't know and the only thing he cared about these days was never revealing his identity to her. If she was captured, she wouldn't be able to sell him out and that was important because if she _was_ captured, he would be sent for and he could do something to prevent anything from happening to her. If she revealed his identity because he had been stupid enough to reveal it to her, he would be murdered before he could get there.

Shacklebolt had come to him nearly three years ago now, when they had been just a solitary year into this war, under cover of darkness, in an alleyway in Knockturn and promised him clemency if he became a spy. The position had been vacant since Snape's death and Draco had a feeling that Snape had asked for this for his godson.

Draco also had the feeling they had been watching him as he spent hours drinking himself into oblivion after the death of his parents (a murder that had been performed by him out of mercy but the stories and rumours amongst the recruits were important for a solid reputation).

Draco's penchant for alcohol had begun in the first year of war, when he still couldn't quite handle everything that had been happening. After the death of St. Potter, Voldemort, now mortal, tried to prove his power by murdering all of those close to him. Dolohov, Crabbe and Goyle Sr., Fenrir and even Bellatrix, nobody was immune to his wrath. Draco's parents had been tortured into oblivion and rather than leave them in their vegetative state, Draco had flicked his wand in an Oscar worthy performance of nonchalance and killed them allowing their bodies to hang from the front door of Malfoy Manor until they had begun to rot. Voldemort had taken this as a mark of respect rather than defiance and appointed Draco his number 2 on the spot. In murdering his most loyal followers, Voldemort had replaced them with their children and now Draco felt like he was drowning in bodies.

So one night, while trying to forget his apparent callousness in a whiskey bottle, Shacklebolt had offered Draco a way out. In his drunken state Draco had refused, citing that he was going to make his father proud (he scoffed at himself as he thought of his words) but Shacklebolt had not been persuaded and had promised Draco that the offer was on the table.

Draco never spoke of the meeting to anyone and this got Shacklebolt's attention and made him bold enough to try again several months later. One particularly nasty night, after another round of executions and torture, Draco had become so blind drunk that he screamed until he passed out in that same alleyway. Shacklebolt had appeared, sobered him up and a deal had been made.

Draco was asked to put his remorse and grief to one side and become a spy, proving his worth to Voldemort by receiving some information from Shacklebolt. Little things like where some of the safe houses were and the occasional pre-arranged location of Order raids which led to the deaths of some Order members (a necessary sacrifice in Draco's mind) had served Draco in the last two years and had allowed him to maintain his position as Voldemort's confidant. Draco had no choice but to think like this, years at war were not about to make him soft; war meant death the two went hand in hand. He had given up the alcohol and becoming a spy had earned him his reputation as a human lie detector, in truth it had served him very well. In return for relaying information, Draco had demanded that he would speak to nobody except one woman.

 _"Granger?" said Shacklebolt, staring at Draco disbelievingly. "You mean Hermione?"_

 _"She's not dead is she?" said Draco hoarsely, attempting to wipe dried blood from his chin from where he had screamed his throat raw._

 _"No, she's not dead but why her? Is this some sick rivalry between you from school?"_

 _"No", sighed Draco sincerely, "I already agreed to help you didn't I? You've made me take veritaserum, you've rifled through my thoughts as if I was a goddamn filing cabinet and in return I want it to be her that I meet"._

 _"She'll never agree to it", he said. "Once she finds out that it's you"._

 _"You won't tell her it's me and I won't reveal myself. I'll use polyjuice, I just want it to be her"._

 _"Tell me why", said Shacklebolt. "Tell me why I should trust you with her, your people are rounding up muggle borns as we speak and doing unspeakable things to them, why would I allow you anywhere near her?"._

 _"I love her", said Draco and the look in his eyes told Shacklebolt that he meant it._

 _"That's twisted", was all the response he received._

 _"Tell me about it", Draco had muttered getting to his feet._

That had been two years ago and now Draco was nearing the end of his rope. His sanity felt frayed at the edges and often he had almost reached out to touch her before sense took over; put a stray lock behind her ear, run a thumb along her jaw. He wanted to press his cool lips to hers: hear her involuntary moan catch in her throat as he did so; just as she had done back in Hogwarts when he had kissed her with a passion so fierce it had frightened them both. That had been before everything went to hell.

The war had been going on for too long, Voldemort was a terrifyingly volatile thing to behold, killing without thought had led to the deaths of thousands of people and quite a few of them purebloods. He wasn't differentiating anymore despite declaring that this was the _Hour of the Pureblood_ , he was behaving like a drowning man, convinced that everybody else was trying to step on his head.

Well, nearly everybody. Draco had sacrificed everything to be where he was now, Theo and Blaise had done the same but, as Draco called off the death eaters and sent their dejected and ashamed forms back to report their folly to Voldemort, he knew he had decided to throw in the towel and admit defeat. Besides, saving his own skin was something he was remarkably good at, which he had proved time and time again by merely surviving in this hell. If he got the chance and if he could trust them, he would consider taking his friends with him.

Perhaps he would reveal himself to her, perhaps he would tell her that he loved her and couldn't stand another moment where she wasn't wholly part of his life.

He snorted to himself, still finding this little joke pathetically funny, and prepared to apparate for a futile meeting with Blaise and Theo.

Draco ran his eyes once more over the smoking ruins and cast the dark mark above them, no need to indicate to the world that this was an escape. Better they think it was a carefully planned annihilation and thought once again about revealing everything. His mind continued to wander everything he was doing now was automatic.

Perhaps she would tell him that she also loved him, perhaps she would welcome him into her life; her arms, her bed, without a second thought, perhaps she would forgive him for everything that he had done.

Perhaps pigs would fly, perhaps hell would freeze over, perhaps Voldemort would catch the flu and simply pass away like the member of the elderly that he was.

Draco snorted but this time it was without humour and straightened his long black coat, turning up the collar and running a hand through his hair before turning on the spot.

Perhaps not.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione stared at the large notice board in front of her and tried to make some sense of it; there were pieces of red string making a sort of haphazard map and you would be forgiven for thinking that this was the lair of a serial killer. There were photographs of death eaters all over the board, some had red X's marked across them and the ones that were closer to the centre, where there was a plain black square which represented Voldemort since nobody wanted to credit him with a picture, were the senior members. Well, as far as they could see it there was only one _real_ senior member and that was Voldemort's confidant; Draco Malfoy.

It seemed that Voldemort was killing randomly and without thought now that he was mortal, a lot of the members Hermione would have recognised three years ago were no longer alive. She almost envied them their death.

Hermione spent hours pondering the board, occasionally adding another piece of string to connect a photo to a suspected death eater lair or pin up a new picture. It was her obsession but she preferred to think of it as a project.

She paused, again for perhaps the fifteenth time that evening, over Draco Malfoy's picture and wondered at how he had changed over the past few years. His hair was still immaculate but short now only his fringe remaining but hanging loose into his eyes rather than slicked back. His facial lines were chiselled and prominent cheekbones above a hard jaw line gave his face a commanding look he hadn't before possessed. The only real constant were his eyes, the same deep silver albeit with thick purple bags underneath them. She would still recognise him anywhere, despite the evidence of several years at war painted on his face like a mask.

She shivered once again thinking of the forbidden kiss that seemed like it had happened to someone else, as she had done regularly since this new picture, barely a week old, had come to her attention. It had meant everything to her at the time; it had been frightening, passionate and desperate all at once. After yet another coincidental meeting between them and another tense but failed attempt at convincing Draco to talk to Dumbledore, he had grabbed her blindly and pushed her against the wall of the tower latching his mouth onto hers with all the fever of a dying man clutching for his last straw. The kiss had awoken something in Hermione that she had never had the chance to explore. It had ended as quickly as it had started and later that night Draco had been dragged out to the tower and far away from her.

The passion he had filled her with, the longing and the sheer desperate ache which he had left behind when he had pulled away filled her with pain now. She loathed how she had reacted, how her back had arched pushing her towards him and allowing him to fill the space between them as his hips had ground into hers. She was repulsed by how she had moaned and responded to his touch with all the fervour of an addict finally getting a hit. She had lost herself in him, suddenly feeling certain of something and sure of everything in that instance.

Hermione sighed heavily, that silly, schoolgirl kiss was a fantasy come true and the reason she lost sleep even now so many years later, it was the reason she had been filled with so much revulsion and something akin to regret when she had first pinned up the pictures on the notice board last year, only to find Draco Malfoy staring back at her, scowling as usual.

Hermione frowned at the picture of Malfoy, they changed the pictures as regularly as possible always wanting to keep things recent. This one had been taken five days ago at one of the many known execution sites. She had stared at that picture in the beginning for several moments and it seemed to catch her eye every time she stopped to check the board, it was a close up shot taken as he had turned his head over his left shoulder perhaps to speak to someone behind him. His face seemed to be set and hard, the strikingly handsome features clear and the cigarette dangled from his mouth almost nonchalantly but his eyes held something that had transfixed Hermione from the moment she had noticed that something was wrong with them. The wind was blowing his hair so that his eyes only appeared occasionally but they appeared slightly glazed, as if he wasn't really present in the moment but somewhere else entirely. Hermione had been trying to put her finger on why they bothered her so much and for the now, the best she could think of was that he couldn't even be bothered to pay attention.

They had murdered fifteen muggle borns at that particular execution, some of whom she'd known. She'd heard it had been brutal, old fashioned torture methods utilised until they had screamed for death and once execution had been completed, they had fallen into the mass grave before them. They were the latest casualties in the death eater raids and the new recruits were said to be even more heartless than the death eaters they knew so well and even those numbers were dwindling as Voldemort became more and more erratic. For every one familiar face, there were at least ten new fresh-faced youths she didn't know and they were getting younger and younger by the month.

"Here you go Hermione", said Ron handing her a steaming mug of coffee. "What time do you need to leave?"

"In about twenty minutes", she replied blowing away the steam before inhaling the scent of coffee slowly and turning back to the board.

"Do you think he will show this time?" He asked sipping his own tea but she could feel his eyes studying her carefully.

"I don't know, I hope so, we haven't met in two weeks and I need what information I know he has", she sipped her coffee and smiled at him. "Thanks for this".

They had been indulging in a relationship of sorts, seeking each other in the late hours of the night for comfort, among other things, before returning to their respective beds and not speaking about it again. He was comfortable and safe; Hermione felt a security with him that she had struggled to find since Harry had died at the Battle of Hogwarts and it had felt like the whole world was turning inside out.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been forced underground in the immediate aftermath of the battle and the subsequent year. They had spent the last three years openly battling against the dark forces but it hadn't been easy. Like the death eaters, they recruited regularly and were stretching this recruitment far and wide. They now had a strong Irish following as well as a steady American contingent. Currently, Kingsley and several others were attempting to recruit more followers but more and more people saw the situation as hopeless and refused to even get involved.

The house was located in Connemara, a quiet area deep in the countryside of Galway, Ireland. It had been necessary to move where nobody would find them or even think to look especially since apparating was so easy and Portkeys were made readily available.

Seamus Finnegan had offered his family's holiday cottage which the Order had readily accepted and promptly converted to make it bigger on the inside. Now it had upwards of twenty bedrooms as well as a kitchen big enough to feed everyone. The entire Weasley family including Charlie and along with the girlfriends of Percy and George all lived here now.

The original plan had been to have all the Order members under one roof but instead, for fear of having all the hens in one hen house as Mrs Weasley had said, this house served as main headquarters. Bill and Fleur had taken in Teddy and Kingsley had refused all offers of moving in with any of them.

All of the meetings were held here, as numbers grew so they had set up several safe houses around this country, Scotland and England. These were all marked by red lights on a large map to the left of the noticeboard. If the light went out, the safe house had been compromised, if they were red as they were now, it meant there was at least one person present keeping watch. The lights turned green when there were more than one person present and it was possible to cast a simple spell and reveal the names of those in the houses, of course, such a spell was only entrusted to the highest Order members.

"You think he has more intel?"

"I really do think so, I mean we've been hearing rumours for a long time about their recruitment process but they have to be moving further afield as we have been".

"I can never look at his face and stay calm", said Ron following her gaze which had been unconsciously trained on Malfoy's picture.

"I know, sometimes my rage feels like it will boil over and I fully believe it's why we're still standing here and Harry isn't", Hermione said resignedly. "I think he just couldn't do it anymore".

These were words she had said a thousand times, words to stave off the anger that Harry had somehow abandoned them and then they had been words for comfort to stave off the guilt at having thought of Harry like that.

"He made Voldemort mortal", said Ron sipping his tea before straightening Malfoy's picture and then unconsciously wiping his hand on his jeans.

"And in nearly four years none of us have been able to get close to him", said Hermione and she couldn't help the anger in her voice as she spoke.

"Your source has led to some valuable deaths Hermione, we just need him to start delivering us information that will get us closer to Voldemort", said Ron throwing a casual arm around her shoulders.

Hermione smiled but shrugged out of his embrace under the pretext of moving away and going into the kitchen. In truth, those kinds of casual intimacies felt...wrong...uncomfortable and as if they didn't fit in the rationality of day. At night she could, lose herself and...and...

 _Pretend he was someone else_.

She shuddered as she took two more gulps of coffee before pouring the remains down the drain and stared out into the slowly darkening night. It was true, when he came to her or she to him, she would close her eyes and enjoy his careful and cautious love making and pretend that he was someone else, anyone else. A faceless man that she did not know and did not care about, it would make everything easier after all if she just didn't care.

"Any closer to discovering who the source is?" Ron's question was the same one that he asked about once a month for the last two years but the truth was she already had her suspicions.

 _"He's made a special request", said Kingsley suddenly slumping down at the kitchen table and staring at the expectant faces before his gaze finally settled on Hermione. "He would like his contact to be Miss Granger alone"._

 _Every head swivelled in her direction but she didn't notice all she could focus on was Kingsley's face._

 _"What?" she had asked incredulously. "You're not serious? Me, specifically? How do you know I won't be captured or tortured?"_

 _"Or worse", Ron had chimed in furious at Kingsley for even thinking about this._

 _"He has taken Veritaserum, he also allowed me to perform Legilimens and I see no reason to believe that his actions are anything but sincere. I appreciate that he is a death eater but his only two requests were to keep his identity a secret and that you act as his liaison Miss Granger. Please remember that I reached out to him, I recognise a man who is desperately seeking a way out", Kingsley was tired Hermione could see that but she couldn't believe that he would take leave of his senses like this._

 _"I won't do it, I can't...you can't make me...I won't", she had finished in a quiet voice knowing it was useless. They needed this source, this spy inside the death eater army. Snape's death had been a huge loss to them and they were losing more and more people every day because of bad intelligence. They were getting desperate and now at last a light had begun to glow._

 _"Miss Granger...I will accompany you on your first meeting and subsequent meetings if he will allow it before you trust him but believe me when I say that you are the only one he will talk to"._

 _"I'm sorry...I...I don't..." she stopped before getting to her feet. "Yes, I'll do it. Set up the first meeting or whatever and just tell me when and where._

 _Ron had rounded on her, "Is this some sort of sick joke? I won't let you go alone, I have to go with you"._

 _"Ron", said Shacklebolt, ever the peace maker. "That is quite impossible"._

 _"You want us to honour the request of a Death Eater? One we don't even know!"_

 _"I know him, I reached out to him, I offered him this chance and even after the first time I went to him, he never revealed the fact to anyone. If he had, I wouldn't be here right now which makes me think that he is trying very hard to survive and won't jeopardise his own chances"._

 _Hermione stayed silent during this exchange, which continued behind her becoming more and more heated as Ron grew angrier. She would calm Ron down and she would go despite his wishes because she knew how important this was._

 _All for the greater good._

The when and where had turned out to be a field in the middle of the Cotswolds and Kingsley had indeed accompanied her on the first visit, and the second and the third until she could trust that her source was not about to kill her or take her hostage. However, Kingsley was not permitted to be within ear shot of the conversation which had been stilted until he had allowed her to use Veritaserum again so long as she never asked for his identity.

She had asked him if he meant to kill her, capture her or harm her in any way to which he had replied negatively. The last question she had asked was " _Can I trust you_ ". He had replied sharply with the glimmer of a smirk around his eyes since that was only part of him not really covered by his scarf: " _Yes, I'm all you've got"_.

The answer hadn't seemed strange at the time but afterwards, on careful pondering, she had realised that it had reminded her of someone. The other answers had been simple and one worded but that one...that answer had struck of arrogance and something had resonated deep within her due to its resounding familiarity. It was like she was trying to make a memory resurface but it kept refusing, every time she thought she was getting closer it would slip through her fingers like sand.

She was aware that he was under the guise of polyjuice, had assumed as much in order to keep his identity a secret and once, just once, he had taken the potion and she had been late arriving, meaning that while he was with her he had started to change back. She could have sworn that she saw long fingered, impossibly pale hands flash before her eyes before he was gone and the whole encounter seemed like a dream but she knew, she knew in her very soul that she had seen those hands before. After that, realising how close he'd come to revealing himself, he had requested the thirty minutes or leave rule along with several others they had created.

All in all, he had requested her; therefore, the logical part of her knew that he had to be someone she knew.

"No", she whispered. "I'm not but I don't know if I want to find out".

"Don't you want to know why he asked for you specifically?" said Ron wrapping his arms around her and this time she didn't shake him off because she was already far away.

"No because that's the question you want answered because you feel irrationally jealous. My questions are far simpler and will be satisfied when I go tonight, where has he been and what's been going on". She sighed and leaned her head back allowing herself one moment where she could imagine herself in anyone else's arms but as she turned her head and stared back into the living room she saw the noticeboard again and trembled as the realisation hit her like the stomach punch Bellatrix, long may she burn in hell, had once delivered her.

Malfoy's eyes had seemed wrong in the picture and they were; they were off by a mile. She thought he had been turning to say something to someone or because he no longer cared but neither of those were right. The look in his eyes said the complete opposite, what she had taken for indifference was something else entirely. As she stared, the knowledge flooded through her like a tsunami, it changed everything about his demeanour and she began to wonder if she had read the picture all wrong to begin with.

His eyes weren't deadened with indifference. Indifference was a reaction she had grown used to seeing in the eyes of death eaters but previous photographs they had had of Malfoy had never been this close to his face. She had just automatically assumed that the same emotion as everyone else resonated in his eyes but it didn't.

He was sad, his eyes positively screamed it that she could have kicked herself for not seeing it before.

The truth hit her hard; sadness for a death eater at a place of execution wasn't right so if Draco Malfoy was feeling sad at the demise of muggle borns, something was definitely wrong.

And that something, she knew, might just change everything...he couldn't be her contact...could he?


	3. Chapter 3

It had taken most of the day for Draco to receive a summons from Theo and Blaise telling him they had found her, unarmed and alone, almost as if she had been waiting for them. Draco had told them to go to their old haunt in the forbidden forest while he sorted things out.

He had been angry when he'd left a group of over-enthusiastic recruits who had decided to test their own limits under the imperius curse resulting in the death of three of their number. Draco had not been pleased, not to mind disgusted at this needless bloodlust in a time of war, and had shown his displeasure by using crucio until they had sworn blind they wouldn't do it again. They would recover slowly, their comrades however, would not and Draco used this as his excuse.

All of the anger left him as soon as he arrived to where she was almost comically sitting upright.

"Why are you here, why did you let them find you?" His voice was strained as he stared down at her, he was just so bone tired at this point that even his tone lacked the fury he should have felt.

She laughed without mirth before pulling herself up higher to lean against the stone wall and coughing violently, blood dribbled down her chin.

"I don't know what curse he hit me with, but Blaise is getting sloppy", she wiped her face tiredly. "He didn't even try to talk to me, just cast whatever this is and called for you. Ever their keeper, Draco".

"He didn't want to kill you; he meant to let you bleed out. The curse is a new one, designed to last hours and while it does that, you're supposed to give me information".

"Except, you're not going to make me give you information right?" She coughed some more and managed a weak smile which he couldn't return.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I know exactly what I've done and what I'm doing, do you think I walked into this blindly. I even chose the spot, it is beautiful isn't it? Sit with me Draco, like old times".

He turned his back to her and cast his eyes around the ruined abbey. It really was a beautiful setting, the fading sunlight filtered through the now empty frames where stained glass windows would have once gleamed proudly. Ivy crawled up the walls and had flowered in certain places giving the place an overwhelmingly calm setting in all the chaos; she had chosen her setting deliberately because he had been here before with her, many times as children and again as adolescents. They had played in these ruins for hours, making it their own secret place.

Draco's shoulders slumped and he lowered his wand, walking slowly back to her and sliding down the wall to sit at her side, taking her hand in his and holding it tightly.

"My parents were married here you know, they literally got married in the ruins of this abbey", she said and he could hear the blood in her lungs gurgling as she spoke. "This is where we would have been married, if you'd ever come around to the idea".

Draco sighed and attempted a smile, "Do you think I would have been able to say no? You're very persuasive, as I found out".

"That was still one of the most romantic nights of my life".

"You had a blanket in that corner and had filled the place with those twinkling lights", Draco smiled pointing to an area under the windows. "Even I was powerless to resist that kind of charm, it was our first time".

"You remember", she said sighing contentedly.

"Always", he replied.

"I love you", she said.

Draco looked at her and knew that there was no sense denying her this small last request. She would know but he would lie anyway, just for her, just for this last time. "I love you too".

"Would you have married me?"

"Yes", he said simply, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it.

She stared at his face for several moments before chuckling softly. "You're such a good liar, I almost believed after that night that you could love me".

"I thought I did myself after that night, it was a wonderful night. You were wonderful".

"You were so skilled, I felt sure you'd done it before. The jealousy was overwhelming".

"You never believed me when I said it was my first time but honestly, even now I'm telling you it was".

"I know, I was so nervous and you were so gentle. I wished we could have done it again but you..."

"I backed off, I know. I didn't want to lead you on but I don't regret that my first time was with you".

"I've done two unselfish things in my life, just two. I helped my parents escape and wiped their memories. They'll live as happy muggles in Wellington, New Zealand".

"Get that idea from someone else? That's plagiarism", he smirked at her surprised that she had given him the information so freely.

"Granger has the occasional good idea I'll admit grudgingly", she answered simply but he could hear the shadow of the jealous schoolgirl she had once been in her reply.

"You know I'll have to say something".

"Don't tell them please, I can't let this be all for nothing Draco", her eyes filled with tears as she stared up at him.

He stared back at her and he wondered if he would be able to lie again, to convince her that he would say nothing and her parents would be safe. He knew though that Pansy's parents had no more wanted to leave than she had made them, had forced them to leave without their knowledge. They would have continued on fighting in this ridiculous war, they would have continued killing and maintained that it was justified. Yes, Draco would lie for Pansy but he had no intention of saving her parents.

"I won't tell them what you did", he said, choosing his words carefully. "It won't all be for nothing".

"Thank you, although you're playing a very dangerous game Draco".

"What's the other unselfish thing?" He asked purely so he could ignore her last comment.

"You're in over your head Draco and the unselfish thing is that I never told anyone of my suspicions. I don't know exactly what you're doing but I know it has something to do with her".

"It makes no difference now".

"You're alone Draco and you have a chance to finally tell someone what you've been doing and you can have the knowledge that just for a short time, someone else is on your side".

"You knew Blaise and Theo would follow you, you knew I would have to tell them to find you".

"I was waiting for you, I thought you would know where to look".

"You hoped I would find you first. It would have been less painful with me", he said rubbing his thumb in circles over her hand.

"I know that but you're avoiding my point. Relieve yourself of your secret Draco and tell me what you're doing", she leaned her head against his shoulder and clenched her stomach in pain gasping and clutching at him with her free hand, he wrapped his arm around her and held her close. "How much time have I got?"

"I won't let it get that far".

"Then tell me".

"I'm a spy".

She let out a breath as he held his and waited.

"You've been giving information to the Order; did you choose her as your contact?"

"How did you...?"

"You know you're predictable to me but nobody else, did you think I wouldn't notice that the person I love is in love with someone else?"

"I wasn't back then, back in school I mean; at least I don't think I was".

"That kiss in the astronomy tower said otherwise".

"You saw that?"

"I love you remember, how many times do I have to say it? I went looking for you that night but she found you first".

"She'd found me many times before but that was the first and only time that we..." He trailed off lamely, waiting for the relief he should feel at having told someone finally what was going on in his life. It never came, how could it when there was only one end for the woman by his side.

"And the memory is burned on your brain? Draco, we had one encounter that final summer before sixth year and do you really think I don't have that seared on my mind? Why would your experience with her be any different?"

She stopped talking to release a spasm of coughing and there was more blood this time. Draco stood to remove his long black coat and wrapped it around her.

"Will you have to leave me here?"

"You know the answer to that; you know I won't have a choice".

"I suppose I was just having a moment of wishful thinking, I should be buried in the family mausoleum".

"I'll put a plaque to you there, I promise you that".

"Just put a yellow rose next to it will you? Old family tradition", she shrugged which brought forth more coughing and yet more blood.

"I can do that".

"Remember me every so often".

"I can do that too".

"Your parents would have been very proud of you Draco, I know how hard it must have been to do what you did but you did the right thing".

"How did you know?"

"I told you already, you're predictable to me. Your father made a lot of mistakes as did your mother but they never stopped loving you. Allowing them to live in that state would have been a disaster and killing them allowed you to live, that would have mattered to them".

She let out a muffled scream at the end of her little speech and Draco knew the curse was taking hold, it was happening faster than usual and he couldn't fathom why, unless Blaise had altered the curse to make it stronger.

Draco kissed her hand, her forehead and rubbed her hair back from her face before getting to his feet.

"Is it time?" she asked tiredly, "I'm so cold".

"I love you", he said it again, trying desperately to let her know that she wasn't alone.

She laughed and smiled up at him, "No, no you don't but thank you all the same".

When he ended her life, he was glad. The truth would die with her and she would be at peace.

The first woman he thought he loved, the first woman he had had sex with, the first person who had loved him outside of his parents.

He stared down at her, smoothed her hair from her face, closed her eyes and then kissed her cheek.

"Sleep well Pans". He cast the dark mark above the abbey and left her body there.

Draco picked up his coat, cleaned it of her blood before throwing it on and placing a steely faced mask on his face. He turned once on the spot and was gone.

"Find her?"

"Yes, I found her. You left her in a pretty sorry state; I could get nothing out of her". Draco continued walking through the forbidden forest until he came to a halt in the clearing beside his friends. He had sent them here before he had arrived at the abbey, knowing they would need a quiet place to talk afterwards.

Blaise frowned at him but his eyes flickered to Theo more than once as he spoke, "That curse takes hours, how long did it take you to get there?"

"I got delayed, cleaning up a mess made by one of the new recruits. It worked quickly on her, I don't know what you did but she was quite well gone by the time I got there".

Draco was clutching at straws but at his words Blaise rounded on Theo clearly unable to keep whatever frustration he had under wraps.

"This is your fault, I told you to let me cast the curse but no, you had to cast it at the same time".

"You mean she got hit with double the dose?" Draco looked between the two of them and thanked whoever was listening for this moment of luck.

"Yea", said Theo shuffling uncomfortably under Draco's gaze. "It was working twice as fast and twice as painfully".

Draco commended Pansy in his head for her pain threshold and her ability to hold it together right until the last. She really was a remarkable woman.

"Did you interrogate her?"

Now both of them took the time to look uncomfortable.

"It didn't feel right torturing her, it was Pansy...like, you get that Draco right? It was Pansy we were facing", Blaise spoke quickly, forcing the words out as if he couldn't quite realise what had happened.

Now Draco knew why they had summoned him so quickly after finding her. They had cast the curse intending not to question her or torture her into submission but leave the dirty work to Draco.

"I know, didn't stop you murdering her though did it?"

"We heard something move and..." Theo trailed off lamely but Draco didn't need him to finish. They had fired the curse at the same time because they hadn't realised she would simply be waiting, she had surprised them and because they had been jumpy to begin with at having to look for their childhood friend, her death had almost been accidental.

In a way, Draco was glad.

"Did she submit to you?" said Blaise.

Draco had a sudden flashback at Blaise's choice of words of peeling away Pansy's dress on that hot summer night and rubbing his fingers down her bare arms as she arched her back into him.

"Yes, her parents have had their memories wiped and are out of England, that's all you need to know for now". Draco looked at his fingernails and began twirling his wand in order to incite apprehension.

"Are you going to tell...are you going to tell him?" Theo blinked rapidly, a sure sign he was nervous. Blaise attempted not to look at Draco but his left eyebrow was twitching, both of them had a tell and it annoyed Draco so much.

"I'm not in the business of saving people like Pansy's parents so yes I'm going to tell him but whatever else I choose to tell him is up to me", he rubbed his hands through his hair. "If you're going to be frightened, learn how to hide it better. I've told you before that you have tells and they are getting more and more noticeable".

"Editing is dangerous, even for you" said Blaise narrowing his eyes.

"Would you rather I told him all of it? I'm offering to edit to make life easier for both of you, an offer I can easily retract", said Draco warningly, his eyes flashing.

"Look what we've become!" screamed Theo suddenly making Draco and Blaise jolt. "Everything we touch turns to ash, I'm in hell...this...all of this is hell and Pansy is dead because she tried to leave this bloody mess!"

"Theo..." said Blaise warningly flicking his gaze towards Draco who felt a surge of annoyance at the move because it meant that his one time friends were keeping secrets from him, no longer sure if they could trust him.

"No, I can't do this anymore, Draco, kill me if you have to for even saying this but I can't take it anymore", Theo was still yelling and it took a quick second for Draco to grab his neck and shove him against the nearest tree.

"You listen to me because I'll only say this once", Draco was speaking slowly and through gritted teeth. "We're all only hanging by a thread and you don't get to fall apart. Not now, not yet. I'm going to edit this story so that you and Blaise don't sound like the cowards he will think you are if I tell him the truth. Pansy is gone and the thing is, I'm glad. She's out of this mess and won't have to spend the rest of her life looking back over her shoulder".

"Draco...I can't...breath", said Theo, his face slowly turning purple.

Draco released him and turned his back, "I have to go and meet him, I have an appointment and by the time I come back, you'll have burnt that goddamn abbey and Pansy's body to ash".

"No problem, look things got a bit heated but it's just because someone we all knew very well turned traitor and died, that's all", said Blaise finally coming forward to lean a hand on Theo's shoulder. "But we're all good, right Draco?"

Draco looked between them and realised for the first time that his friends were trying to get out of this just as much as Pansy had been. He wondered if he would stop them when the time came and realised that he probably wouldn't. However, he couldn't let them try just yet; he still needed them.

"Yes, we're all good. I'll send one or two of the new recruits to help you burn down that place", said Draco knowing they would understand that he was going to have them supervised.

"Is that necessary?"

"For now but don't worry, it won't always be. We're going to catch up properly again very soon", said Draco fixing the collar on his coat.

"What will you say to him?"

"That's up to me and you will say nothing to the recruits when they ask what Pansy did, you will play it up, call her whatever names you have to and you can say that you once knew her but her name will not cross your lips and you will not talk about how she died. The recruits must have no information to contradict the story I choose to tell him, understood?"

"Yes", they said in unison.

"Good, now steel your faces. I'm sick of having to tell you both how transparent you are", Draco rubbed a hand threw his hair before turning on the spot.

He needed a moment to compose himself before he met Voldemort so he apparated deliberately to the mausoleum three miles from the ruined remains of the Parkinson house. After he had erected the plaque and stuck a permanent yellow rose to the cold marble, he got down on his knees and screamed, as only a drowning man could do.

He screamed for her loss, for the loss of his own innocence and for the loss of a world where he had lived in naive stupidity.

He screamed because crying was out of the question and deep in the recesses of this hell nobody could hear him.


	4. Chapter 4

He was late and she was worried.

It had been only five minutes but in their world, that mattered hugely. Fourteen days without a solitary word meant that five long minutes stretched like an eternity and she was getting desperate, with no new intelligence the Order had been clutching at straws on where to strike next and as a result had failed to make any impact at all.

The barren landscape served her grim mood and she stared across the marshes of Rannoch Moor in the middle of Scotland knowing that it was beautiful rather than seeing the beauty. It was harsh and open but isolated and really the perfect meeting point. It had been her choice after the initial meetings, the old train to Hogwarts had once passed near here and it reminded her of happier times.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself turning away from the view and moving in further from the main road, the cold air biting at her cheeks and hands. She had forgotten her gloves in her haste to leave and get away from the house after the revelation of Draco Malfoy's picture. She didn't want to think of him as sad, didn't want to think of him as trapped in this nightmare in the same way she was. He wasn't allowed to be a victim of this. No, in her mind he had to remain a facilitator to this evil or everything she had believed about the differences between the light and the dark lost their rationality. In her mind, the entire war had kicked off the moment he had failed to kill Dumbledore and that made him culpable, she shuddered to think of what had happened mere moments before that incident.

"I'm here, I'm sorry". His voice was gruff and she resisted the urge to shriek as he appeared suddenly behind her.

"You're late", she said instead attempting to compose herself.

"I'm aware", he replied coming closer but pulling his scarf up until it covered most of his face. "Had to be present at the meeting with the Dark Lord, the Parkinsons had their memories wiped and are currently in Wellington, New Zealand although I suspect not for long. Pansy is dead".

"Dead?"

"Yes, Draco killed her".

Hermione let out a shaky breath and thought she would feel relief at hearing that Draco was still a sadistic killer and his "sad eyes" had all been in her head but it never came. Something was wrong; something about the way he was telling her was off. Usually, he listed casualties with something akin to relief and pleasure, his voice this time held no mirth and was oddly distant.

"How did she die?"

He didn't reply right away, instead he raised his gaze and stared straight through her, something he never did. He rarely made eye contact but this time, his eyes were almost challenging her to question him and it made her nervous. "Don't know, wasn't there".

She dropped her gaze from his defiant dark brown eyes and stared at the floor almost embarrassed at having asked such a question, which in itself was preposterous; asking him questions was sort of vital considering she was his contact.

"And Pansy's parents?"

"They'll be dead soon, Draco gave them up too but at least it's over for them now".

"Busy day for Draco", she muttered before realising his raised eyebrows meant he had heard her. She shook herself, "You're recruiting now in Russia, right?"

"Yes, and Poland, Lithuania and Brazil, so far our numbers have increased by the hundreds but by the end of the year we're looking at over a thousand new members. The new recruits are being trained in an old, long-abandoned camp in Germany called Dachau. It was a tourist attraction but certain contacts within the German ministry have seen it put to our use instead".

"That was a concentration camp never mind a tourist attraction", she whispered back, horrified at the idea despite all of the atrocities she had seen thus far.

"Yes, well it suits our purpose and it's out of the way. There, you'll find all the brand new recruits being trained. Draco Malfoy oversees their training most of the time but he's often not there and instead they are left with Zabini and Nott who take it in turns to be in charge with the rest of us helping when we're not elsewhere. Although, I think Nott will be spending more time there than Zabini in the future".

He seemed to pause and decide whether or not he wanted to keep sharing with her. Sometimes, he would stop abruptly in the middle of a torrent of information but his off-kilter mood obviously served his generosity and he continued steadily. "I recommend coming just before dawn if you're planning to raid since this is the time deemed the safest for the recruits to guard themselves for training purposes. It's not well protected in the hour right before the sun rises because the new recruits are lazy, more interested in glory than actually doing anything like work".

She hid her pleasure at this information, anything that meant making a dent in Death Eater numbers was good news."Anything new on Voldemort?"

"Still hiding in a location he is keeping from everyone, including Draco. He appears when he wants us, does most of his business out of Malfoy Manor but doesn't stay there. We don't know where he goes when he's not with us and the Manor is as impenetrable as always. Death Eaters still cannot get in and out without first giving up their wands. Security measures have become more stringent in the last 24 hours with the Parkinson treachery, as of this morning none of us are allowed to be in the presence of the Dark Lord without a chosen senior member present. Zabini, Malfoy and Flint are the only senior members Voldemort will trust now".

"What happened to Theodore Nott?"

"Voldemort is finding him too jumpy recently, he's been demoted for the time being on Draco's orders".

She stared at him for a few moments when he was finished, realising that with this news they would finally be able to get a handle on just how many new recruits they were facing and stall further efforts to obtain more. "This is valuable information, thank you".

"Let's just say I was in a giving sort of mood today", he replied gruffly still not looking at her but shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets. "Your turn".

"We've started recruiting in America which is going very well and France which isn't going as well, most of them just seem to want to be left alone. We've talked about giving you two safe houses but you should know that there are Order members there who will be expecting you. We don't sell people out. They are in Glencoe, which is west from here about two hours that way, they're the only two houses in the middle of it about ten miles apart, you can't miss them. Send Death Eaters but know that those present will have been forewarned. We ran through it with everyone and those were the ones that agreed to be given up, they'll be ready for you".

"That doesn't matter. Thank you".

"So Draco Malfoy killed Pansy and sold out her parents. I have to say, of all things I didn't expect that to be part of your intelligence but I'm not surprised, he's consistent at least".

"How do you mean?" She hadn't expected him to be listening never mind answer her; she had meant her comments for herself and was surprised to see that for the second time that night, his eyes were boring into hers.

"He's still the sadistic killer we've come to recognise over the past three years, he's the only one in this war who has behaved exactly as I would have expected, well...not quite, he's a far cry from the coward and bully he was when we were in school. His strength is now what makes him so dangerous but yes, since this war started he has been the most consistent player".

"You want to know something about Draco Malfoy?" His words took on a fierce tone as he moved towards her and for the first time she saw a flash of feeling cross his face. "He's full of surprises and just because you've seen him at occasional battles and raids, don't think for one second that you know anything about him, you know nothing".

She shook her head and moved towards her contact brushing the hair from her eyes as she went. "There's a time I would have agreed with you, the night that he failed to kill Dumbledore made me think once that perhaps there was hope, perhaps he wasn't a complete lost cause and there was more to him than what he was projecting; but I was wrong. The Draco who failed that night, and wavered for a brief moment in his loyalty, is gone before he really had a chance to exist. There is no hope for the man he has become, one who kills without remorse and does his Masters bidding like a good little dog. He is surrounded by bodies and soon he won't remember the person he used to be or the person he could have been".

She took a shaky breath after her speech unaware that she had been holding onto all of that and had needed to say it to convince herself that it was true. The Draco she thought she had known really didn't exist anymore and trying to believe otherwise whilst knowing all of the inhumane crimes he had committed was nothing more than school girl fantasy.

He blinked and the flash of feeling she had seen in his eyes a mere moment before was suddenly gone, replaced by weariness and resignation.

"I don't care anyway", he shrugged. "Maybe Draco is a lost cause, I don't think even he knows what he is".

"He's a killer, that's what he is".

"That's all you would see", he said and something in his tone sounded familiar. It sounded like the way she had tried to defend Draco to Ron and Harry just once, before the astronomy tower incident had changed everything and back when she thought her feelings for Draco were becoming more than just an indifferent need to help.

He stared at her a moment more until she felt uncomfortable and then he took one step away from her turned his back and prepared to leave, "Next week but early in the morning this time, with the new schedule at Dachau it's easier for me to get away when it's still dark, 5am?"

She nodded still staring at him with the hint of a frown on her face. He turned and began to walk away but before had had so much as taken three steps he turned back and this time she saw his eyes flash and suddenly, they didn't look brown anymore but stormy grey and angry.

"There's a mausoleum on the grounds of the Parkinson house, the house itself has long since been destroyed".

"This morning, we know".

"But the mausoleum still stands", he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Go to it and see if it gives you food for thought".

"Why would I...?"

"Until next time", he replied, turning on his heel with one last almost lingering glance at her face.

The sound o f the pop echoed around the moor and Hermione shivered, they had never discussed Draco Malfoy like that before although most of the information seemed to come back to him considering he was Voldemort's right hand. She guessed that this contact, whose name she had never been told, must spend a lot of time in Draco's company or in the Dark Lord's at least and was therefore, also quite superior. Although, given what he had said tonight, he wasn't a senior member but remarkably well informed for someone who wasn't in the inner circle.

Perhaps though, he lied to her. His intelligence had always been good but no information ever came back to him so perhaps that was the point. She had wondered briefly in the beginning if this contact was someone like Malfoy, Zabini, Nott or even Flint but had quickly realised his intelligence and ability to partake in something as difficult as this, ruled out quite a number of death eaters.

For him to be Malfoy or even Zabini, the only two really intelligent people to come out of the death eaters and the only two she could think of that wouldn't crack under the pressure made no sense. Not with everything she had learned about them over the past two years. She had therefore given up trying to guess and stopped caring, after all what did it matter who her contact was as long as his information was valuable?

She prepared to apparate but just as she moved to turn on the spot her contact's words resonated in her head when they had been speaking about Draco Malfoy, "He's full of surprises".

The disbelief shook her so hard, she apparated three miles north of where she had intended to be and fell to her knees.

There was no way. It wasn't possible.

Perhaps she would stop by the Parkinson Mausoleum after all, it couldn't hurt.

Right?


	5. Chapter 5

**_Author's Note: Just a quick word because I received some messages about potential grammar errors and I just want to state that I don't have a beta and don't always have time to proof read._**

 ** _However, one of the comments I got was about quotation marks in speech being placed wrongly. I'm writing from a British English perspective, not a US one, and as a result quotation marks can go either inside or outside punctuation._**

 ** _Therefore, both "Draco!" and "Draco"! are correct._**

 ** _Thank you!_**

 _Fool!_

 _How could you be so stupid?_

 _You idiot, two years and it could all be for nothing because you let your temper get the best of you!_

 _You should be able to control yourself by now, what the hell was that?_

 _You think she'll work it out?_

 _Of course she will, Christ what have you done?!_

 _She might not though; she might think it's cryptic._

 _But you have opened yourself up to that risk, you idiot!_

Draco railed inwardly while clutching his whiskey tumbler in one hand and his crystal decanter in the other, pouring himself more each time he downed the previous. The whiskey burned his throat but failed to rid him of his feeling of failure and downright stupidity.

Vanity and anger had caused him to lash out and in doing so he may just have undone everything he had struggled to build over the past two years. He had torn it all down in a matter of seconds with a few choice words and for what? So that she could know he was more than the person she had painted him to be?

She would go to the mausoleum and she would wonder that this unnamed contact knew about the plaque that Draco had erected and there was a chance she would put two and two together. The plaque hadn't been signed; obviously, he wasn't that stupid although his recent actions said otherwise. But it had referred to their time at school and her unwavering loyalty to him and someone as astute as Granger might understand the reference. If she worked it out, it would mean catastrophe for their working relationship.

She needed a contact and while he would need an out in the future, he wasn't ready to give up just yet. He was still trying to work out a way to kill Voldemort himself but it was getting harder and harder.

The creature, since you could no longer call him a man, didn't take food nor drink anything that had been prepared by anybody. Indeed, Draco had no idea what Voldemort lived off and he found he didn't want to know.

No weapons, no wand and no way of poisoning him meant that coming up with ideas on how to kill him had to come down to wandless magic, which was volatile when trying to duel an opponent who possessed their wand.

He hadn't even figured out where Voldemort went when he was not at the Manor yet. In truth, Voldemort's hideout was still a frustrating mystery to the man who was deemed intelligent by many.

He had searched the usual haunts, the places mentioned by his parents as to where Voldemort had been when he was still not fully formed. He had gone back to the Riddle mansion, the graveyard where Voldemort's parents were buried and even the old Gaunt house. Nothing.

He felt that if he could find Voldemort's hiding place, he had a better chance of taking his Master by surprise.

It would end the war, it would end all of the bloodshed and Draco's eagerness for that was now taking over his desire for anything else.

Well, almost anything else. His twisted desire for her had got the best of him tonight and he had reacted in a way that had surprised even him; he had thought that his tendency to lash out without thinking had long since gone.

He was weary of being viewed as a monster when she had once thought there had been more to him. He knew she may never get to see the man he had become and tonight, hearing her say those things about him and knowing she thought about that night in the astronomy tower had made him overwhelmingly angry of the fact.

He closed his eyes and remembered what it had felt like to grab her shoulders and push her into the astronomy wall and crush his lips against hers. He could still hear gasp and her mouth open as he rolled his hips into hers. Then her hands had moved to his hair and pressed him closer to her, her leg coming up to hook against his hip with his hand moving to cup her bottom and balance her at the same time. It had been fevered, frenzied and the most devastating kiss he had ever had.

Then he had pulled away almost in shock and they had stood panting at each other for several moments before she had whispered; "Do this and you will lose everything".

He couldn't remember their words prior to the kiss but she had made him angry and that was the only thing of which he was certain. Fury caused him to act out, much as it had done tonight.

He opened his eyes and finally raised himself from his winged armchair, setting the decanter and tumbler down on the side table and walking over to the fireplace. The fire was roaring and he stared deep into it, almost wishing he could fall in. The fireplace was incredibly large and ornate but it was just another reminder of how much he hated Malfoy Manor and everything it represented. Every room reminded him of his parents and of what he had done and each polished mahogany table and every crystal chandelier served as a flashing neon sign of his family's innate need to display wealth. His mother's scarf still clung to the beams outside from which he had allowed their bodies to hang.

They were just bodies, his parents were gone by then so it hadn't mattered to him but her scarf was stuck there and he couldn't quite bring himself to pull it down. He needed constant reminding of the cruel person he had become but why it was necessary to survive.

He would risk not going to Dachau tonight. Since giving her the information, he knew the Order couldn't afford to wait long before attacking and they would do it between now and the next seven days before he met her again but she never acted rashly on the information he gave her. Attacks always came a few days afterwards because the Order liked to be fully prepared.

From tomorrow, he would go there every night so that he could be there when the raid came. Draco had found in the past that being present at the raids he recommended to the Order allowed suspicions to remain firmly away from him. He had murdered several Order members over the year, often being seen by Shacklebolt, but knowing that he had little choice in the matter. In those situations, it was kill or be killed.

He decided though that sleep would allow him to clear his foggy mind and hopefully assuage some of the guilt he felt in allowing his emotions to overcome his rationality.

He climbed the stairs to his parent's room with heavy footsteps wondering if he should have brought the whiskey decanter with him but knowing it was better that he hadn't. He had taken the Master bedroom to avoid questions as to why he would not automatically want the main room of the house.

He hated it, it was uninviting and devoid of anything that reminded him of his parents. He had removed all of the pictures from the wall and they were currently stacked against the door leading to the walk in wardrobe which still contained his mother's clothes.

He glanced at them as he walked to the bed, a painting of Nurmengard to the fore and he grimaced as he hit his foot off the bedpost because he hadn't taken his eyes off the picture.

"Grunt!" He screamed at the top of his voice before his ancient house elf appeared with a pop before him.

"Master", he bowed lowly and for once Draco ignored the sarcasm behind it. Grunt hated him and the feeling was mutual.

"Have you been moving paintings around?" Draco pointed and watched Grunt sneer at him, "I don't remember seeing this one in this room before?"

"Grunt has not touched anything. This painting was part of your mother's private collection and was located in the attic but Grunt did not move it into this room. Perhaps Master should get all the facts first".

"No need for the tone Grunt, don't make me take my anger out on you", warned Draco. "Remember what happened before?"

Grunt took a step back and narrowed his eyes before bowing again, "Grunt never forgets but Grunt still did not touch Miss Cissy's paintings". His eyes glazed over in reverence as he thought of Draco's mother.

"Get out then", Draco replied quickly deciding that it didn't matter before moving to kick his hideous elf but Grunt scuttled out of the way first.

"As Master wishes", he said walking to the door before muttering, "Killed Miss Cissy, deserves everything he gets".

"I can still hear you, you filthy cretin. Get out" said Draco, climbing into bed wearily all the fight leaving him.

He heard the door shut but he stared the painting for a long time before falling asleep, who had moved it in here and why was it unsettling him?

His eyes began to close and he watched as the fire that heated his room slowly died down.

 _"You don't have to do this", her whispers were frantic as she crossed the tower to stand in front of him._

 _"Have you been waiting on the stairs this whole time to come and speak to me?"_

 _"I'm serious Draco, please, don't do this. I can help you, I want to help you". She grabbed his arm gently and moved her hand lower until she was clasping his hand. "We could be together"._

 _"You don't really want me", he replied intertwining his fingers with hers and moving her hand up to his lips, pressing gently._

 _"I do, I love you. Don't do this, come with me, switch sides. Don't let the death eaters in and we can actually be together"._

 _He lifted his hand and rubbed a thumb along her jawline, listening to her moan catch in her throat._

 _"This is a dream", he whispered and it took everything he had to say those words. "A good one all the same but still…just a dream"._

 _"No, Draco. I'm not a dream, I'm real and I love you. Don't do this", she leaned into him then and pushed her lips against his allowing him to taste her again as he so longed to do. He sighed heavily into her before pulling away._

 _"It's still a dream", he whispered pressing his forehead against hers. "But let's imagine I said yes"._

Draco twisted in his sleep and let out a small whimper of frustration but he didn't wake. His dreams plagued him constantly and it killed him that even in sleep he was permitted no relief. He felt punished even during the hours when he should have been allowed to escape the horror of his situation. Instead, he stepped into every dream knowing that that's exactly what they were.

Dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione had stood for several minutes reading and re-reading the blasted plaque in the Parkinson mausoleum and marvelled at her own stupidity in wanting to come here. The words made no sense, and she could make nothing of them.

 _I'll think of you as promised from time to time, I'll think of the love you gave me that I could never return but most of all, I'll think of the one final act of kindness I could give you._

 _Sleep, it's over for you now._

She didn't know what the final act of kindness could be, an act of kindness would surely have been letting her get away, of making sure her parents were safe, of saving her life but none of these things had happened so Hermione could only surmise that the act of kindness had to have been something before the event of her death.

"It's over for you now", she whispered to herself, willing her memory to tell her why those words felt familiar. The strangely poetic nature of them rang a bell deep in the recesses of her mind but nothing was coming forth.

She breathed a deep sigh and couldn't mistake the disappointment contained within it. Had she wanted her contacts identity to be finally revealed to her or had she naively hoped that it would turn out to be someone important...someone she knew?

She shook her head and stood, admiring the single yellow rose that had been left and found herself wanting to leave something, anything.

She took out her wand and toyed with the idea of leaving another rose for a few minutes before finally pocketing it again, she would leave nothing. Nothing to show she had visited this place and heeded advice she had had no business listening to in the first place.

She shook her head again and willed the feeling of disappointment to leave. Drawing her coat around herself, she prepared to depart for the safe house in Connemara all the while feeling that she had missed something vitally important in the entire trip.

"Dachau?" said Kingsley, staring at her in utter horror over his bowl of steaming beef stew later that same evening.

Spoons clattered around the table at her words as the others processed the information.

Hermione, having already dealt with the shock of this revelation, took the opportunity to spoon another mouthful while she could and nodded.

"That's barbaric", said Mrs Weasley.

"Horrific", agreed her husband.

"...sick..."

"...twisted..."

The words echoed around the table until Ginny added, "But unsurprising", she raised her eyebrows at the stares she received. "We know what they are capable of".

She went quiet again and Hermione found herself staring at her friend. Ginny who played with her food now, was losing too much weight and seemed unable to sleep without a draught. Harry's death had hit her hard and Hermione figured the delayed reaction had caused grief to manifest so late. Hermione resented her slightly for taking time to mourn when the rest of them continued to carry on so that they could finally end this war for everyone. The result had soured their friendship as Hermione felt Ginny's reaction was selfish considering they all wanted to mourn and wallow in grief but the war raged on regardless.

However, in this Hermione could at least agree and she nodded in response before gulping down another few mouthfuls readying herself for the onslaught of questions.

"Okay, what do we do now?"

"When can we attack?"

"We could go tonight, take them by surprise?"

"Or any day really?"

"How many are there, do we know?"

"How many should lead the raid?"

"What are you thinking, Kinglsey?"

"Did he say anything else?"

At this last question, eyes fell on Hermione again who had taken the opportunity to finish her meal and push the bowl away.

She had debated with herself all the way back about telling them every detail but decided against it, she would tell Kingsley alone since she knew that he knew the identity of her contact.

"No", she said finally. "That's it".

Kingsley raised his eyebrows at her before finishing his own meal and pushing his bowl away, "Hermione, I would speak to you alone I think. Nothing to be done tonight everyone, get some rest. I'll be back first thing in the morning to organise a plan but for now I have things to attend to that cannot wait. Molly, thank you as always for the delicious meal."

With that he shrugged on his cloak and walked to the door, gesturing Hermione to follow.

The moment he closed the door behind them, the talk and noise started up again in earnest as the crowd inside digested her words.

"You have something else to add I presume?"

She smiled at him, "He had a few choice words to say about Draco Malfoy and they've stuck in my head for reasons I can't explain". Her smiled faded and she looked up at the stars surrounding the cottage. Lack of artificial light meant the sky out here was beautiful, all constellations visible.

"Go on", he said stiffly and she looked at him with a frown.

"He told me that I didn't know him, that my idea of him was all I would see and that he was full of surprises. Then he told me to go to the Parkinson Mausoleum where a plaque was left to Pansy and to see if it gave me food for thought, which it didn't by the way".

"You went?"

"You're not going to chastise me for going are you? I thought we trusted this contact?"

"No, I wasn't going to chastise you. I approached this contact because I have absolute trust and faith in him and it has paid off over the past two years. I was merely surprised that you clearly trust him enough to do his bidding".

"It didn't feel like an order", she said suddenly realisation flooding through her now she was saying the words aloud. "It felt like a plea".

She frowned at her own choice of words.

"Something you're struggling with?" Kingsley said, calmly.

"I'm struggling with the identity of the contact, I've managed to ignore my curiosity for two years but now I find myself not just wanting to know who it is but secretly hoping that I know him".

"Miss Granger, you know that you once knew this man. You knew that from the moment he requested that you be his contact but I don't believe that is the kind of knowing you are speaking of".

She had the feeling now that she was in fact being chastised and she lowered her gaze to the ground, not willing to look Kingsley in the eye.

"You're right, I want it to be a particular person and I can't think like that, I can't allow myself to think like that", she trailed off not wanting to say anymore.

"Then do not, we have a goal to work towards and we haven't come this far for nothing. I will see you tomorrow to discuss our plan of attack. Good evening, Miss Granger".

She sighed into the night after he had apparated and snorted at the words Kingsley had chosen, "Then do not". Yes, that was easy, thank you for that advice. Don't think, what could be easier than that?

She snorted again and sighed, hugging herself.

Don't think about Draco Malfoy anymore.

The next morning, Kingsley arrived promptly on time and told them that the raid would be set for the very morning she was due to meet her contact, in six days time.

"Why would you arrange it for the same time?" She had asked as Kingsley laid out his plan. "This means I won't be present at the raid and I want to be".

"I don't want your contact present at the raid, I plan on taking prisoners. It's about time we had some more intelligence with what is going on".

She was furious, it was almost as if Kingsley wanted to limit her time with her contact now that he had realised her feelings in wanting to know who it was.

Her contact would surely be expecting them to raid the place before their next meeting and perhaps this was to also take him by surprise, show him his place.

She didn't know but she didn't care, she stomped off as soon as the meeting had ended, angry that she wouldn't be present at the Order's next and most crucial move.

Ron found her after lunch pulling out weeds furiously in the garden.

"You're angry".

"You're a genius", she muttered to which he laughed and flopped down beside her, taking the hand that was currently doing an assault on the various weeds.

He held her hand and looked at her, calmly in the way only he could do before moving to press his lips softly against hers. She let him, knowing that she shouldn't lead him on like this but equally craving the physical contact.

She let him deepen the kiss and move his hand to settle on her breast for a beat or two before finally breaking it and leaning into him, guilty now instead of angry.

"I'm glad you won't be at the raid", he whispered. "Every time we go to one I spend all the day before terrified that the next raid is the one in which I lose you".

She said nothing, they had had this talk before and it used to annoy her but now, the guilt gnawed away at her that she didn't share the same sentiments. She obviously didn't want to lose him, didn't want to lose any more people but not for the same reasons.

"I need you, Hermione. I've always needed you and since Harry...I need you even more. I'm sorry if that's the wrong thing to say but I am glad and I won't hide that".

"This is the only raid I plan to miss Ron, so don't go thinking that there will be more. We need information more than I need to be at that raid so just this once".

He kissed the top of her head and chuckled and they sat like that in companionable silence before Molly called them in for lunch.

The next five days passed in a haze of activity, preparation for the raid which would be the largest they had seen for six months was in full swing and Hermione had never felt more out of the loop.

The Death Eaters had attacked the two safe houses she had given up about three days after her meeting with her contact. Of all the casualties, the Order had lost one of their number; an old Irish bachelor who had volunteered for the job but the Death Eaters had lost five. The traditional memorial dinner for the fallen, in this case dinner for Padraig Finnerty, was tinged with celebration that they had taken five out of the eight death eaters who had attacked.

The morning of the raid, Hermione saw herself standing at the door of the kitchen as those there gathered everything they would need. She was dressed ready to go and meet her contact despite the fact that she had thirty minutes until she had to be there.

She had wanted to say goodbye.

Ron came over to her and kissed her quickly but softly in front of his beaming mother and she found she didn't have the heart to castigate him for being so open about it. They weren't in a relationship but now she found, they might as well be given the looks they were receiving.

Ginny was preparing to go on her first raid in over a year and Hermione knew everyone was slightly apprehensive at the thought but not wanting to deter her since she was a skilled dueller and would be an important asset.

"I'll see you when you get back", Hermione told them all firmly, refusing to hug or go near anybody. They had all lost too much and goodbyes now didn't exist.

The first hour they were gone, Hermione was expecting casualties. Those too young or too old to partake in raids waited outside and in the house, ready to lift or replace wards and see to the wounded who would be brought back.

Nobody had arrived by the time Hermione apparated to Rannach Moor and Hermione didn't know if this made her happy or extremely nervous but of one thing she was certain, she was nervous about seeing her contact again.

Nervous, to the point of wanting to ask him who he was, nervous because she was finally recognising that the feeling she had about her contact's identity was actually hope.

Hope that it was in fact Draco Malfoy she had been facing and that the thing that kiss had started all those years ago wasn't over for them yet.


End file.
